After last night’s snowfall (six inches,
maybe more), I wasn’t sure I would be going out tonight. It’s the Spice New
Year Ball and I’m going by myself. Luckily it’s been thawing all day so I’ve
decided to risk it. It means having to take a change of shoes, otherwise the
snow is so deep, I’ll get there with frozen feet and shoes filled with slush. I’m
a bit concerned about what to wear. I have some better clothes now but nothing that
you’d call glamorous. Even if I had a suitable long dress I wouldn’t be able to
wear it as by the time I’ve walked to the station the hemline would be sodden. I
hope the dress code isn’t too strict or they may not let me in.
Today’s been strange. It began with me
feeling a tense as a tightly strung drum. John’s been here far too much lately
due to dogs/snow/him feeling poorly etc and he’s been getting under my skin. At
the same time, telling him to disappear and never darken my door again is far
to scary.
He went to see a flat today. When I first
suggested it as a possibility he argued, sulked and carried on saying he didn’t
want a first floor flat, however nice it was. He conveniently forgets that’s it’s
my money and I need the best return I can achieve. I have a budget of £130,000.
If I can get away with spending £100,000 the rest is mine to waste on cruises,
clothes, holidays and having fun.
Of course now that he’s actually seen the
place he’s changed his mind, largely due to the garage and workshop that come
with the property and the fact that’s it’s in a good area and close to the
shops. I called the agent to make an offer, or rather left a message on the
answer phone as nobody answered. Apparently offers have already been made so it’s
a case of wait and see what happens. I confess it would be good to get John out
of my hair. He’s far less likely to want to spend time here if he’s got a
decent place to call his own.
Pip the terrier went home today.
Her owners were meant to come at 4, and
they were meant to call beforehand. Instead they arrived just after three when
I’d only just stepped out of the shower. That meant dashing about getting everything
together while still wearing my dressing gown.
I miss her. When I first took the booking I
was dubious, terriers can be a tiny bit tiresome, but she turned out to be a
sweetie. It was such fun watching her frolicking in the snow.
This morning I also finished a story which
I’ve emailed to Woman’s Weekly. I’m not that sure about it as it’s a bit
downbeat but you never know.
Now to decide how much makeup to put on and
to try to avoid poking myself in the eye when I apply the mascara. I don’t have
much idea about make up as for the last thirty years I haven’t much bothered
but if the 2011 Christmas do is anything to go by, the other women there will
be dressed to kill and make–upped half to death….
Linda - you're just as good as every other woman there, so put your warpaint on, struggle into your 'control pants' and get out there and WOW them!
ReplyDeleteOh, and don't fall over like I did when I last tried it, trying to put a pai of tights on. You could perhaps opt for stockings, remember those? You wore them as a child in the 60s. Walking in them may make you feel like the real-life verson of Jar Jar Binks, but men seem to like them.
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